The command tent smelled of smoke and weathered canvas. Seiran swept his gaze across the assembled officers—Jiraiya at the head, Minato to his right, and a dozen other senior shinobi whose names he was still learning. They studied him in return, their eyes sharp with calculation.
He was acutely aware of how young he looked among them.
The kill count spoke for itself: the Fourth Kazekage fallen by his hand. No one his age should have that record. Kakashi had been remarkable too, but this? This was different. He could read it in their faces—shock, awe, and the faint unease of people trying to reassess their understanding of what was possible.
"The Iwa front remains critical," Jiraiya said, his deep voice cutting through the tent's murmur. "Our forces are too scattered to mount a decisive push. Sand Village pulled resources, the Stone Village is pressing hard, and we're bleeding shinobi across three theaters."
Minato leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with that particular intensity that meant trouble. "If we coordinated your abilities with our tactical advantage—"
"Not this time," Jiraiya interrupted, though his tone held no edge. He knew Minato well enough to see where this was heading. "Sunagakure's intelligence network was thorough. Too thorough. It appears the Stone Village has acquired detailed information about Seiran's capabilities through back-channel sources. They've had time to prepare."
He turned to Seiran directly. "The Iwa camp maintains an extensive sensory barrier. Their scouts operate beyond three kilometers now. If you attempt the same approach that devastated Sand Village, you'll be walking into a prepared trap."
Seiran understood immediately. It was a bitter pill—his reputation had become a cage. Iwa was restructuring their entire defensive strategy around him. He'd seen the efficiency reports; the Iwa scout network was formidable. They'd essentially turned the tables: instead of electromagnetic warfare being his advantage, it had become the focus of their entire operational doctrine.
He issued deployment orders methodically, his expression grave. A major engagement would come soon. The battlefield would decide what tactics remained available.
---
Four days later, a scout rushed into the command post. Large-scale Iwa forces were mobilizing. Jiraiya gave the order without hesitation.
The grasslands of the Land of Grass stretched endlessly, interrupted only by scattered forest patches. The main battlefield was an open expanse of green, and as the two armies approached, Seiran finally saw what had prompted Jiraiya's cryptic expression before the battle.
He nearly laughed aloud.
The Iwa shinobi thundered across the field in what could only be described as primitive warfare. Heavy animal hide armor covered most of their bodies, ragged and crude. Their forehead protectors had been replaced with cloth strips bearing Iwa's symbol. Some shinobi actually hurled stones and wooden projectiles.
Around Seiran, the Konoha forces maintained their composure, though he caught a few smirks being quickly suppressed.
When the armies collided, kunai and shuriken clashed in the air—but many of these projectiles weren't standard metal. Polished stone. Wood. Bone. A muscular Iwa shinobi in animal hide armor hurled rocks with methodical precision, and for a moment, Seiran felt genuinely displaced in time.
Among the Iwa ranks, Commander Koseki's jaw tightened. He knew how absurd this looked. But there was no alternative.
Metal was a liability now. A lethal one.
Any metallic object within range of Seiran's electromagnetic jutsu became a weapon against them. Standard ninja gear relied on iron reinforcements, metal fastenings, and armor plating. To fight him effectively, they had to abandon it all. Heavy animal hides provided protection while maintaining the metal-free requirement. Kunai and shuriken were irreplaceable—too vital for any warrior to surrender—so they'd improvised substitutes from bone and stone. The quality suffered, but it was functional.
The price was staggering. Iwagakure's industrial resources were being diverted to produce enough non-metal alternatives to outfit an entire military force. Shinobi smiths were working overtime forging inferior weapons. It was wasteful, expensive, and necessary.
Tsuchikage Ōnoki had made that clear: one way or another, they would neutralize Seiran as a threat, regardless of the cost.
Because if they didn't—if his power remained unchecked—Iwagakure's entire infrastructure, perhaps its entire civilization, could be set back decades.
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